Bab 2: Part 1.2
You know what the worst part about being me is? The lack of interaction I have with other people. It sucks.
Yesterday Warden was talking about how he was the person I interacted with the most, and how that made him my friend. How sad is that. The guy who literally holds my life in his hands is my friend. Stockholm Syndrome anyone? If at any moment, he gets annoyed at me, he could do his whole 'poison everything' routine and end me.
I'm a criminal, scum of the earth, and Warden reminds me every day I see him. My crime is only barely forgiveable. I don't know why he would pretend to be my friend.
I freak out whenever he talks to me. He's more than four times my height, and I saw him crush a guy once. Well, more than once. I've seen a lot of things I wish I hadn't seen. Including people melting.
That's right. Melting. As in, solid into liquid. Magellan has a lot of things he does to take care of prisoners that are rioting or break the rules. I've never been on the receiving end of Warden thankfully.
I've seen things that can't be unseen. I've done things I regret, like brewing Prison-Beer, and the less that is said about the milk incident the better. This prison is hell, it makes sense that the World Government they have here would send their criminals here.
I live on Level One, which is hell. There's trees and grass made of, and I'm being serious, razor blades. When the guards feel like torturing somebody, they force you to run for your life through the blades. I've done it twice, and that's only because I got swept up with everyone else while eating. My feet have toughened up since then.
Impel Down has five levels. I can't even begin to imagine what Level Five looks like. Or even Level Two.
My musing is cut off by familiar footsteps. I guess it is about time for Warden to visit. I slept on the ground, as usual.
Oh, don't look at me like that. I have a bench and a hole I my cell, and that's it. I don't get a bed. I've been sleeping on stone floors since I was... two? Three? I'm not sure really. Wondering what the hole in my cell is for? Use your imagination. I'm sure you can figure it out.
Soon, Warden comes in front of my cell. He's carrying a small red and white plaid sack in his left hand. With practiced ease, he reaches into his pocket and retrieves the legendary 'master key' that shows he is the Chief Warden. It opens every lock in the prison, or so I have been told.
Despite his large size, Warden has no issue at all in entering my cell. He told me once that most cells were built to hold people who were at quarter-giants like himself.
Yah. Giants exist. According to Warden there are giants held in the lower levels of Impel Down. 'Level Four or lower.' He said.
My cell is still quite roomy even with Warden in here, and I take a seat on the floor. He does the same, sitting down slowly into a cross-legged position.
"Happy Birthday Prisoner 10013." He tells me, setting the plaid bag on the floor between us.
"Thanks Warden!" I tell him as enthusiastically as I could. It wasn't hard. This would be the first real meal I'd have in my entire life!
He undid the knot on the bag and it's bounty spilled out for me to feast my eyes upon, and hopefully soon feast my stomach upon. I still had to be ignorant however. In this life, I'd never even seen bread before.
"Wow! What is all that stuff? Can I eat it?" I ask with childlike curiosity.
Magellan doesn't answer at first. Sometimes when I talk to him he will just stop and look at me. I like to think it's just because he's drudging up protocols for speaking, and not imagining ways to smash me.
"Yes. You may eat these." He begins to point out the foodstuffs, telling me what they are called. "This is bread. This is cheese. This is a pear. This is some salted ham. This is some lettuce. This bottle is filled with Cola. Cola is a sweet drink."
"What's sweet mean?"
He takes a deep breath. "Sweet is a flavor. Why don't you try it."
He spins the top off the bottle of Cola. I can hardly believe my eyes. Cola! I've been dreaming of this day for years! I didn't even know they had soda in this world!
I take the bottle and slowly bring it to my lips. I take a sip.
Quickly, I chug half the bottle.
I lick my lips and give a satisfied sigh. "It's so good!"
While I sip the Cola, which is making me miss Mountain Dew (but we can't have everything), Magellan begins to break apart the bread and other food. It's obvious that he's making a sandwich, but I can't let him know I know he's doing that.
"What are you doing Warden?" I ask him.
He doesn't answer. Instead, he hands me the sandwhich the size of my head. "Eat it." He commands.
I do so. Let me tell you. You try going seven years only eating glop. A sandwich will become heaven in your mouth.
"Ish shooo guwdddd!" I tell him with my mouth full.
"Don't speak with your mouth full." He tells me, and I immediately stop talking. I continue to eat, enjoying every second. Magellan watches me in silence.
I'm a quarter way through my birthday meal when he asks me a question. "Prisoner 10013. Can you read?"
I swallow. "No sir. But I can do numbers. That means I can do my name! Like this."
There's a thin layer of dirt nearby, and I draw '10013' in it.
Magellan looks at it then says "Do you know why you are Prisoner 10013?"
"Is it because I'm the ten-thousand and thirteenth prisoner?"
"No. You were born in cell 10013."
Wait. "I thought you told me that there were only ten-thousand cells in Impel Down."
"There are more. Much more."
Okay. Cool little tidbit I guess. I finish my sandwhich, and Magellan stands to leave. "Have a nice day Prisoner 10013. There is now only forty three years left before you are released."
He leaves, locking the cell behind him.
He left the plaid bag, and atop it is the pear. Hmmm. Pear. This is the first fruit I will have eaten in my entire life.
It looks a little weird to be honest. It has these pressed in designs on its skin. It must had been stored somewhere next to something patterned that gave it such a weird bruise. Oh well. I'm not entirely sure, but I think that bruised fruits are sweeter or something.
I rub the skin a little to get the dirt off. Then, without further ado, I take a bite.
I don't spit it out. I just finish eating my mouthful and then give the pear a critical look. Something here isn't right.
"This tastes like glop."
The fruit must be rotten or something. Oh well. I'm not one to waste food, even if it does taste like glop. I finished eating the entire pear. Core, stem, and seeds.
I smack my lips and lick my fingers. "Disgusting."
I fold up the bag Magellan left and then find a 'comfortable' spot sitting on the ground leaning against the wall looking out my cell into the empty cell across from me. Occasionally someone will move in, but they don't stay for long. I have lived in this hallway of the prison alone for over a year now.
Whatever. I pat my full stomach contently. I feel myself drifting off to sleep. Maybe I'll dream again. Recently I've been having weird dreams. In them, I have a family. They love me and laugh at my jokes, and we eat together and take care of me when I'm sick.
I laugh aloud. "IhsIhsIhsIhsIhsIhs."
Like that will ever happen.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone